Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(45)
I checked the time on my phone. Holly and Caleb would be looking for me. It was time to go. I’d learned all I could. I dug out my charm, though it likely wouldn’t work on the dryad, satyr, or anyone else who’d seen me in the bar—it showed people what they expected and now they’d all seen me glow. But it would disguise my nature from those who didn’t yet know better, so I slipped it over my head.
I had a potential lead if the satyr followed through and called when the hobgoblin made his next appearance. It was the best I could do on the mortal side of the bar. On the VIP side? Asking questions would likely be a lot more dangerous. For today I’d just send Rianna a message letting her know about the fading and have some dinner with my housemates. I was starving.
Chapter 14
Falin didn’t return that night. I should have been happier about that fact; after all, that meant I had my small overhouse apartment all to myself for the first time in nearly a month, but really it just made me anxious as I kept expecting the door to open. It also meant I didn’t get any answers about what else he may have discovered at the crime scene.
I considered checking in at the office the next morning, but it was Sunday so we had no posted hours for the day, plus Ms. B and Rianna were holding up in Faerie to conserve energy. The response Rianna had sent me last night hadn’t been encouraging, mostly because it had consisted of only one word. Hurry. I had to get my link to Faerie, and fast.
I had other reasons to find the alchemist as well. If he was really behind the creation and distribution of Glitter, he had to be stopped before more vials of the drug hit the streets or more fae died under his phlebotomy tools. I had only a handful of hours before I needed to meet Holly and start getting ready for Tamara’s wedding, but I couldn’t waste them. It would help if I could track down the distributors in the mortal realm and then follow that line back to the alchemist. But I couldn’t just sit around hoping the satyr from the Bloom called. The hobgoblin he’d mentioned was my only lead, but it was also possible he wasn’t involved. Even if he was, who knew when he’d show up at the bar next, especially with Glitter being all over the news. How much time did I have before I faded so far I wouldn’t be able to stay in the mortal realm? I needed to be proactive. The problem was, I had no idea how to investigate a drug ring. But I knew someone who did.
Grabbing my phone, I called the front desk at Central Precinct. I confirmed John was in today, but declined to be transferred to his private line. He probably wasn’t too happy with me right now, and hanging up a phone was easy. I’d be way harder to dismiss in person.
? ? ?
John frowned at me from across his desk. I hadn’t even said anything yet—just sat down.
“Alex, if you’re here about yesterday’s murder scene, there isn’t anything I can tell you. We handed over everything we had on it to the FIB already.”
I smiled, trying to look innocent and disarming. John’s expression didn’t change and he closed the file he’d been scanning when I walked in.
“It’s connected, but not directly. I need guidance. You worked narcotics before homicide, right?”
John cocked one bushy eyebrow before giving me a single curt nod. That was apparently as good as I was getting from him. I rushed on.
“Well, I need to track down who is making Glitter, but I’m not sure where to start. I know the kids from yesterday got their hands on it, and I know it’s being manufactured in Faerie—”
“So you said. I’d like to know how you know that.”
Now it was my turn to frown. I hadn’t actually been oath bound to refrain from talking about Icelynne and the circumstances of her death, but that didn’t mean I wanted to recklessly piss off the queen by discussing court business. The drug, while connected, was tertiary to that case. Still . . . “I was hired by the winter court to look into a case that involved the drug,” I said after what was probably too long of a pause.
“And now you’re looking for the manufacturer? No offense, but that not only doesn’t sound like your kind of case, but you’re in way over your head. You’re excellent at raising shades. Stick to that.”
He’d given me that particular advice before. It hurt no less this time. If my actual father had said as much, I wouldn’t have cared. But coming from John, the man who’d encouraged me to go through with getting my PI license in the first place, who’d encouraged me to open Tongues for the Dead, and who’d connected me with my retainer position with the NCPD—yeah, it stung. A lot.
But it wasn’t like I had time to cross my arms over my chest and pout. John didn’t know I was fae, and with the current strife in our relationship, I wasn’t feeling particularly willing to share. That also meant he didn’t know my precarious position of lacking any tie to Faerie or the urgent reason I had to solve this case and find the alchemist.
I didn’t bother forcing a smile, but I did lean back slightly in my chair, trying to look relaxed. And as if I wasn’t going anywhere. “So have the narcotics guys interviewed any of the other kids from the dance? Did they find anyone else who saw the dealer?”
“I told you. That case was handed off to the FIB,” he said, but his eyes darted to his half-full coffee cup as he spoke.
“Yeah, you guys handed off the murder case,” I said, putting my hands on the arms of the chair and leaning in toward him. “But you can’t tell me you guys aren’t looking into the drug connection.”